there dallies a small inkling:
the power to change or withhold
the chance to fold or grow old
and never know…
although something inside
echoes
that Regret will not crow proudly
and Instinct will
remain the
truest guide.
2012
there dallies a small inkling:
the power to change or withhold
the chance to fold or grow old
and never know…
although something inside
echoes
that Regret will not crow proudly
and Instinct will
remain the
truest guide.
2012
A mistake well forgotten
Is a mistake waiting to reoccur.
It’s sad but interesting
How we forget what caused us so
much misery.
the outside world
was too caught up
in its
tossing and turning
whirling and churning
the suspended droplets
swam hurriedly into rivulets
many arms
tossed between them
a head
many arms
held a woman
possessed
and so the shadow play of the wind persisted
the trees erratically moving to a music
not heard but seen
in that frenzied chill
of time
Sleep escaped
and Peace retreated
and Thought
imagined
things that
had yet to
happen
but determined
that they would.
the past comes back
in the most unexpected ways
what you never wanted to forget
fades without notice
what you never wanted to remember again
catches you completely unaware
and at times
what you thought was forgotten
was just waiting for its
chance to be remembered…
keep your fingers crossed
your heart open
your vision willing
your dreams real
@@@
keep your smile secret
your heart willing
your vision sure
your dreams strong
@@@
keep your eyes dry
your heart strong
your vision unblurred
your dreams from fleeting
@@@
keep your head up
your heart patched up
your vision realistic
your dreams as dreams
to envy the sorrows
that have comforts
*
to question the cares
of those who have
ones to save them
*
to search for a
smaller piece
of a gauzy dream
all glimmering with hope
one where joy
is still buoyant
and ignorant
of the troubles
that follow
***
to deny that a whimper
was heard where a
roar was thoroughly expected
*
to seek the words
that were heard in the heart
but were left unsaid
the air still silent
and stuck within
the breath
wishing to remain
inside
and end what all
it had started
***
and to forget what
hope there ever
was of returning
to that little
sad pit of denial
***
there is a rumour
of empty space
its hallow call
fills the breath
of room it
usually occupies
as it tries its
feeble best
to spread its peace
the clusters of chaos
have advancedly arrived
they nudge and jostle
trilling their slogans
each wanting to
trigger
struggling one above the other
to subsume
in desires to consume
“that is the dilemma when you think too much”
we are strangers to ourselves
only our thoughts know us better
and yet we hide their likeness
fearing only we have thought alone
capture meaning
with a thought
capture a thought
with a feeling
capture a feeling
with a heart
capture a heart
with truth
capture truth
with truth
there dallies a small inkling:
the power to change or withhold
the chance to fold or grow old
and never know…
although something inside
echoes
that Regret will not crow proudly
and Instinct will
remain the
truest guide.